But no matter. For
the sake of posterity both now and forevermore, we shall discuss the four
principalities of the mind, and if it be too much pressure to bear for the dear
reader, I would remind you that indulging in the chemical erasure of such
knowledge is a common pastime. Having
said that, let us bravely and stoutly move on to a discussion of the four
principalities.
First we have the two “sides,” and we shall herein call
them the Dove and the Raven. We will find
them endlessly portrayed in life. They
are the “pros and cons, ups and downs, good and bad, conservative and liberal,
etc.” They fight against one another for
dominance in our mind. Whenever you have
a decision to make, you can bet that the Dove and the Raven are feuding in your
mind. Some simple examples: Shall I move out of state? Shall I take a new job? Shall I marry and have children? Some covert examples: Shall I take what is not mine? Shall I hinder another’s advancement? Shall I exult one friend and damn another?
In the case of the simple examples, we easily allow the two
to argue it out, and the one with the strongest and best arguments wins. In the case of the covert examples, we often
do not consciously acknowledge that the “fight” is taking place in our mind at
all. But that does not mean it is not taking
place. It merely means that we are
either too daft to admit to our own dark side or too cunning to allow it a
foothold in our conscious mind (and so it festers in our subconscious mind). Those who are daft are the lucky ones.
In any event, the two opposing “sides” (of the same coin,
mind you) are the first two principalities.
Then there is the third, and we shall call him the Judge. The Judge sits back and impassively listens
to both arguments. If he is a good Judge,
he will not favor one side over the other.
If he is a bad Judge (easily bribed by that which has gained a foothold
in our subconscious), he will play favorite, and the poor unsuspecting
individual might know nothing of it.
Alas, youth is wasted on the young.
It is the job of the Judge to encompass both sides and,
hopefully, come to an understanding.
When we put on the Judge’s robes, we can actually feel a difference in our thoughts.
They become heavier as we weigh now this idea and then that, now this
good point and then that dark promise.
The Judge has an intelligence that goes beyond that of either the Dove
or the Raven because he must project himself into the future to gauge his choice
while simultaneously plunge himself into the past to compare prior similar
arguments and their outcome.
The Raven and the Dove place themselves entirely in the
jurisdiction of the Judge and will abide by his decision whether they agree
with it or not. This is a prerequisite
for sanity. Those who cannot abide by
the Judge’s decision will soon find themselves held in a detention center of
their own making, and they shall slip slowly into absurdity and hysteria until
they can correct their witless delirium, make a decision, and move on with
their lives. I decree that we shall have
no fence sitters.
For many intelligent people who function quite well in
Caesar’s world, that is where it ends—with the Dove, the Raven, and the
Judge. And there is nothing wrong with
that. In fact, I envy the surety of
those people at times, even if that surety proves false, because sometimes it
is enough to simply “know” what you want and not realize that all knowledge comes
with a price. A person can get by quite
well in life with the first three principalities, without ever acknowledging
the fourth.
But there is a fourth, and once I point him out, he will
seem obvious. So you have the Dove who
pulls in one direction and the Raven who pulls in the other, and you have the
Judge who sits between the two, listens, evaluates, and decides. Behind the Judge you have the Watcher. He sits and observes only. Surely you know him? How could we even discuss the Raven, the Dove,
and the Judge, if there were not a fourth to point out the existence of the
first three? We know of the Judge
because the Watcher has told us about him.
If there were nothing standing behind the Judge to define him and
expound upon his parameters—to explain the reason for his existence—we could
not know the Judge. How can you know
something you cannot think of?
So there is the Watcher.
He sits back and watches everything.
He never judges—ever. He would
never lower himself to do so. That is
for the realm of simple flesh and blood.
He watches dispassionately and keeps exquisitely fine records of every
single thing that ever happens in our life.
He watches us as we live and move and breathe and love and die. He experiences the joy of every triumph and
the agony of every defeat. He is our
unconditioned consciousness whereas the other three are our conditioned
consciousness.
He is the shard, the spark of the Great Unmanifest, who
manifests through each individually expressed channel and ultimately
experiences Himself. He is the same as
the Source, but never forget that He is still on a much lower level. The apple is not the tree, but it comes from
the tree and ultimately will express the tree when its seeds are allowed to
experience final fruition.
These four principalities, then, make up the mind of the
individual man. Behind them is the
backdrop of the Great Unmanifest (the fifth).
We will save this for another time.
But understand, please, that there are those shrewd
individuals out there who know this all too well and who take advantage of
others who cannot grasp their own complexity and divine nature. Know that the wily merchant and his ilk are
always circling like a pack of coyotes, looking for the weakest member of the
flock, exploiting the minds and bodies and labor of the sheep, siphoning off
their fine wool. And we hear them growl
in their guttural tones, “Baa baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full! One for the master, and one for the dame, and
one for the little boy who lives down the lane.” One for the Dove, and one for the Raven, and
one for Judge who sits on The Bench (from which three the merchant shall extract his greedy share).
December wants me to finish up these loose ends for you,
so that we might plunge into the great unknown together and begin again. I am weary of the fight, and my armor has
certainly seen its better days. But I
expect I shall rise to the occasion just the same. Let us continue on, then, in what we shall
call a choice. Ashes, ashes, we all fall
down.
